


Comforts and Confession

by NobodyAtAll



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 75th Hunger Games, Catching Fire, F/M, Hayffie, Quarter Quell, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7139642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodyAtAll/pseuds/NobodyAtAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch and Effie have a late night before the launch of the 75th Games.</p><p>(Haymitch x Effie, Movie-verse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comforts and Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet of what happened the night before the 75th Games. Movie-verse, unbeta'd. Enjoy :)

Haymitch’s ears popped as the Training Center elevator whooshed past the tenth floor. When it reached the twelfth floor and opened into the penthouse, he found the place dark and empty. Expectedly so, since it was two in the morning.

He padded as quietly as possible down the hallway toward Effie’s rooms, bypassing the liquor cart in the dining room. The door to her suite was ajar, and a soft light spilled into the hall. Haymitch paused, taking a breath before knocking softly and poking his head into the room. 

Effie sat on the sofa, immersed in a paper she was holding. Her shoes and gloves had been discarded but she still wore the same froofy multicolored dress she’d changed into after the interviews. Her pink-lashed eyes flicked up toward him at the sound of his knock.

“How did it go with Seven?” Haymitch asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Effie tossed the paper onto the coffee table. “Well enough, I suppose. Blight had already turned in for the night, but I spoke to Teak and Johanna... That girl is just awful, really, I'd almost forgotten why I try to avoid her. No manners whatsoever. But I gave them your message.” Her brow was slightly furrowed. “I still don’t understand why it will work.”

“They all saw Katniss shoot. They want her as an ally. There are two packs forming this time; it would be stupid to be on the outside of _both_.”

“But if our victors are among the strongest, why are we _not_ joining the careers?”

Haymitch crossed his arms. “Because I don’t trust One and Two. Period.”

Effie put up a hand in deference. “All right.” She stood up, and divested herself of the multiple bracelets on her arms, dropping them on the table. “Are we forgetting anything?” she asked, rubbing her wrists.

He frowned for a moment, then shook his head. “Don’t think so.” In truth, he was certain. Everything about this had to be so carefully maneuvered and planned that he had double and triple checked that allies were informed and sponsors in line and his tributes prepared as much as they could be. 

Effie nodded. She ambled closer to the doorway, pausing halfway. “It hardly seems real,” she intimated quietly, looking away toward the window.

“Well, it is,” Haymitch replied tersely. 

He watched her shrug off the emotion she’d been feeling, and nod. She stood up a little straighter, and reassumed her detached, professional manner. “What else can be done tonight?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He took a deep breath. “I guess we both ought to get some rest. I’ve got a feeling about these Games...” Her eyes found his. “With the way everything’s been, I think it’ll go fast once it starts.”

Effie was visibly rattled by this, but she merely lowered her eyes and nodded.

Neither one of them made a move to retire.

“Anything else?” Effie finally asked, looking at him.

Haymitch uncrossed his arms. “Yeah,” he said quietly, stepping forward into the room. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You keepin’ it together?”

Her mouth twitched. “Trying to. What about you?”

He frowned. “I’m alright.” They both knew he wasn’t. After a moment, Effie stepped in closer and wrapped her arms around him. She hesitated a moment before resting her cheek against his chest.

It was platonic enough that either one of them could still step away and say goodnight, and end it there. But they both held on.

His mind kept going back to how devastated her voice had sounded when she’d said goodbye to the kids. So utterly heartbroken. It made him like her even more - anything she did to remind him that she was human underneath all that paint made him like her more. Like now, seeing her in her bare feet. Simple things, like taking off those clunky bracelets.

Eventually Effie looked up at him, with uncertainty. They had an unusual arrangement, one that had never been discussed and was therefore confusing at best. If they slept together tonight, it wouldn’t be the first time. But it might be the first time they did so completely sober... at least on his part.

Making the first move always felt like diving off a cliff, but Haymitch dipped his head and met her lips with his own. For half a moment he felt the lurch of free-fall, but then he felt her kiss him back, and the ground was steady again.

As with every time this happened, they didn’t speak too much. They communicated through touch. The kiss grew hungry, eager, but as things got more heated, Effie did pull back breathlessly and say, “Give me a minute.” 

Haymitch had learned long ago that if she asked for a minute, it was best not to argue. That get-up she wore was ridiculously complicated sometimes, and heaven forbid if he dropped her dress on the floor, or set her wig on a nearby chair... No, everything had to be just so.

Besides, Effie was incredibly punctual.

He wandered slowly across the living area toward her bedroom. In what he would bet was exactly 59 seconds, she reappeared in the bedroom doorway wearing nothing but her corset and panties. He barely got a glimpse, though, as she hurried back into his arms.

They made it onto her bed, stripping off what was left of their clothes. Haymitch struggled a little bit with her complicated lingerie. “Why do you wear these stupid corsets?” he growled.

“It’s called a bustier,” Effie corrected him breathlessly, reaching back to help unfasten it.

He rolled his eyes, but forgot to be annoyed as soon as the garment fell away from her body. 

They were gentler with each other than usual. Missionary was not their go-to position, and yet it was how they quickly found themselves: Intimate. Emotional. A little desperate.

They stayed tangled together long afterward; much longer than they usually would.

Effie nestled in against his side. Her heart had resumed its normal pace; her breath was slow and even. Haymitch lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Making love had temporarily distracted Effie from her dread, but her emotions were backsliding into fear again. 

Something was happening. Nothing was the way it ought to be anymore. The Capitol was angry and the people of the Capitol were angry and the Districts... well, if Haymitch was a representation of the Districts they had always been angry, but now their anger was focused. And it felt dangerous.

She’d been sitting right next to Haymitch when Katniss’s gown had transformed. She’d felt the way he’d gone rigid. And as beautiful and magical as Cinna’s work had been, she knew it was an act of insubordination. President Snow had specifically chosen Katniss’s attire for the evening; it was outright defiant to change it, and she couldn’t understand why he would do it.

But something bigger than that was happening. Something she couldn’t quite grasp, or explain. She could only feel it.

Effie turned onto her side and snuggled closer, winding her arm around his torso. 

He was despicable half the time. And she knew she exasperated him. He didn’t even like her very much. But he was the only person in the world capable of understanding her experiences and her affiliation with the Games and with Twelve.

Haymitch sank a little lower into the bed and put his arms around her. His chest expanded with a deep breath, and Effie tipped her head up to look at him.

His forehead was furrowed. “Did you hear from Cinna?”

Effie nodded slightly. “Yes, he got home all right.”

Haymitch frowned and continued to stare at the ceiling.

Effie watched him carefully, hoping that something in his expression would give her a hint of what he knew that she didn’t.

He glanced at her. “What?” he asked after a moment.

She wanted to express her fear. She wanted to acknowledge Cinna’s transgression. She wanted him to affirm that he was just as wary and apprehensive as she was. 

Instead, she gave a slight shake of her head, as if to say ‘never-mind.’ It was too dangerous even to acknowledge it. Effie lowered her eyes and hugged him more tightly.

Haymitch held her close, and was silent.

He shifted after a few moments, moving so that she rolled onto her back and he looked down at her. “Hey,” he said softly. “I should tell you something, before you find out another way and get pissed at me.”

Effie instinctively braced herself, and fixed him with a stern look. “What?”

“See, now, I haven’t even told you yet,” he pointed out. “Why the tone?”

“ _What_ do you need to tell me, Haymitch?” she demanded impatiently.

He sighed. “The token, the ...bracelet thing? I won’t be able to wear it during the Games.”

Effie reacted before he had a chance to go on. “What do you mean, you can’t wear it? Of course you can, it’s one-of-a-kind, hand-made by Gianni Salvatoro, and don’t try to tell me you’re allergic because it’s eighteen karat gold and I _know_ you’ve never had an allergy to any metals -”

“Can you listen? Can you? For one minute?” he interrupted, irritated.

“What’s your excuse?” she huffed.

“We have to use it as a peace offering,” he explained slowly. “I gave it to Finnick.”

“To _Finnick_?!”

“Effie!” he sighed in exasperation. “Katniss is being her stubborn self, and other than Peeta she only trusts Three and Mags.”

Effie stared up at him. “And this business with Seven... that’s...?”

“If they’ll protect Three, it’ll gain Katniss’s trust. It’ll work.”

Her lungs felt tight. She took a shallow breath before asking, “So why does Finnick need your bangle?”

Haymitch rolled his eyes and explained (in a voice too condescending for her liking), “He and Mags are allies, no question. Luckily Katniss trusts Mags, so she gets Finnick, too. But since Katniss doesn’t _trust_ Finnick, he wanted some kind of guarantee that she won’t put an arrow through him the second he tries to approach them.”

Effie took another breath. “That bangle is no guarantee,” she pointed out fiercely.

“No, but it sends a message,” he said, more gently than before. “She saw you give it to me. And like you said: it’s one of a kind.”

Effie felt her eyes tearing up, so she quickly closed them and brought her hands up to cover her face. Everything he was saying made sense, but it destroyed the beautiful, symbolic gesture she had intended the tokens to be. Even though they were being torn apart, they could show their solidarity through the matching tokens. And now, before the Games had even begun, Haymitch had discarded his - given it away, used it as another tool in the strategy.

“Keeping the kids alive is more important than having a fancy team emblem, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked gruffly.

She breathed deeply a few times before she removed her hands from her face and sat up. “Of course it is,” she hissed, hugging herself and angling away from him. He could be such a brute sometimes. It was beyond him to grasp how significant it was for her to identify with her team from Twelve, and set herself apart from the Capitol. Now he had muddied the whole thing up - now someone who wasn’t even _on_ the team was wearing the token she’d thoughtfully commissioned specifically for _him_. Now the gift which was supposed to mean something, which was supposed to be more than just a piece of jewelry, was being _used_ as a part of the Games.

Effie wasn’t crying. She had managed to shake that impulse. Instead she was taking deep breaths, and trying to convince herself that his actions were not meant as a personal offense.

Out of the corner of her eye, Effie could see that he was sitting up. “Listen,” he said, “I just wanted to tell you before it all started. Didn’t think it would be right not to.” 

“Fine. Thank you for telling me,” she answered curtly.

“Fine,” he echoed cooly. The mattress descended and then rebounded as he moved to the edge and got up. Effie glanced subtly toward him, but didn’t move. He grabbed his pants off the floor and yanked them back on. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he muttered.

He was moving toward the door, and the words flew out of her mouth: “Oh, you still want my help?”

Haymitch halted where he stood. “You know, I’ve been trying not to drink, but right now you’re making it very difficult.”

“Well then I suppose I should just stay out of the whole thing. My contributions don’t seem welcome anyway.”

He stalked across the room to her and got very close to her face. “Do you hear yourself? I am _sorry_ if I hurt your feelings, Miss Trinket, but you know what? It’s not about you. Your _feelings_ aren’t what’s important right now.”

“So, the truth comes out,” Effie snapped. 

Haymitch spread his hands. “What are you talking about?”

“The TOKENS, Haymitch, the tokens!” she shrilled. “You tossed yours away because you think I’m trying to make this about me. If Katniss or Peeta had given you a token, you would have treated it with respect!”

“Katniss and Peeta would never have come up with something as frivolous as that,” he retorted snidely. “Don’t you get that? They’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“That’s not the point,” Effie argued, internalizing the sting of his words.

“Then please, get to it.”

Effie bristled at him. “My _point_ is that it wasn’t _frivolous_ at all; it was symbolic of our bond as a team! There is strength in unity, Haymitch! It was meant to make a statement; so everyone could see that we stand together! ”

Haymitch bellowed, “I don’t _want_ people seeing that!”

She’d had more to say, but it all stuck in her throat. Against her will, tears started to well up in her eyes. She could feel her face growing hotter, and she pursed her lips angrily to keep from full-out crying. “Get out,” she barked, pointing at the door.

He looked surprisingly contrite. “Effie -”

“Get. Out,” she repeated loudly. “I will see you in the morning; until then, get out of my sight.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he insisted. His voice was taking on a defensive tone.

She couldn’t stand that he was seeing her cry like this. She had half a mind to stand up and push him out the door, but she didn’t think he deserved to see her naked right now. “Haymitch, I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Good,” he replied. “Then listen.” He sat down on the bed in front of her, and grabbed hold of her wrists when she tried to push him away. “Why do you think I even told you? So that you could harangue me at three in the morning?”

“Because you enjoy making me suffer?”

“No. I told you out of respect, because I knew it was important to you.”

“But _not_ very important to you,” she shot back.

“Very important to _all_ of us, actually,” he contradicted her. “Which is why it was the only way I could think to convince Katniss. I didn’t know how else to get through to her. So really,” he said pointedly, “You might’ve saved her life, or Peeta’s life, by giving me that bangle.”

That mollified her, slightly. It also reminded her that their kids were going back into the arena in the morning. She sniffed and nodded haughtily, keeping her eyes trained on the bedspread.

“Effie.” He leaned in close, so that their faces were almost touching. “You know we don’t need the wrong kind of attention. We’ve got enough of that already.” 

She frowned at him. “What exactly makes this the _wrong kind_ of attention?”

Haymitch fixed her with an irritated look. “Don’t play stupid, sweetheart. I know you’re not.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with making a statement.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and then shook his head. He gently released her wrists.

Effie pressed her lips into a thin line as they sat silently. It was late, but even though exhaustion was setting in she could still feel adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

“You know I don’t _need_ a token,” Haymitch said quietly. Effie looked at him, and he was staring at the bedspread. He went on. “You know we’re a team. We’ve been a team for years.”

Effie nodded slowly. “Still...”

“Still nothing,” he interrupted. He looked up; his eyes were intense, if a little reluctant. “You know I need you in there. No one else is mentoring solo.”

“That’s true,” she conceded. “You’re very lucky that I’m so tolerant.”

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She skewered him with her glare.

“You could have told me. I could have had a duplicate made,” she mused out loud, changing the subject.

“You still could,” Haymitch replied.

Effie shook her head. “No. It’s not the same.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “Okay. Then don’t.”

She was more annoyed now, than anything. “I wouldn’t have put as much thought into it if I’d have known you were just going to give it away.”

“You finished?” he asked, ready to drop the subject.

She fixed him with a withering look. “Don’t expect another gift from me any time soon.”

Haymitch nodded his solemn understanding. Then he glanced up at her with a smirk. “It was expensive, huh?”

Effie smacked his arm, hard. She wasn’t smiling.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. After a long pause, he added, “Really, though; I am.”

There it was, _finally._ Effie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Thank you for the apology, Haymitch. Given the circumstances, I accept.”

He turned his head away, and she pretended not to see him roll his eyes again. Haymitch looked back toward her wearily. “All right.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in a little while. Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, there you have it. :)
> 
> Next chapter of 'If We Do This' is in the works!


End file.
